


Eye of the Beholder

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blind Character, Castles, Dragons, Magic, Magic-Users, Multi, Oracles, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: An unknown force is attacking Central. The king and queen know next to nothing about this spirit and are in desperate need of assistance. Running out of options, they send for the Oracle: a blind man who can see everything.





	Eye of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prouvairablehulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/gifts).



> I had 2 more angst fics planned after Vegas and Hourglass, but then I decided to make an effort at feeling better. But I told a couple people that they were planned, and one of them was prouves. This fic is my way of apologizing for not writing the angst when I said I would. I know I'm terrible like that haha

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cisco whispers.

Iris leans across Barry to get closer to him. "Cisco. You're our friend, but if you ask me that one more time, I will throw you out of this throne room."

"It'll be fine," Barry adds.

"No good's ever come from the Oracle since the new one ascended," Cisco hisses.

"I disagree," Barry says.

"That's because you two slept with him!"

Mouth working soundlessly, Barry turns to Iris, who lifts her chin and says, "Barry's trusting him, and I trust Barry. Regardless of our history, we are running out of options."

"Your Majesties," the steward calls. Iris instantly straightens in her seat. "The Oracle has arrived."

"Send him in," Barry orders.

The two large doors are pulled open, and the crowd of courtiers hushes.

To the right is a dragon on two legs. His human flesh, uncovered from the waist up, displays impressive muscle and inked runes, as well as sharp ashen talons on his hands and thickets of horns on his shoulders. Two great wings of perpetually smoldering orange are folded, but clearly prepared to unfurl at a moment's notice. Trailing behind him is a thick tail that swishes with a cat's grace despite its many charcoal lumps.

To the left is a woman of golden brown hair and form-fitting golden armor. She carries knives at her belt, a javelin at her back, and blood red paint on her lips. Unlike the dragon's scowl, her elvish features are curled in an alluring smile. Under the lit chandeliers, she is almost blinding to behold.

Between them is a man with a cloak of cobalt blue and brown fur hood. The rest of his ensemble is entirely black, down to the bell sleeves of his tunic and the banded sleeves underneath those. A well-loved silver ring adorns the little finger on his right hand, but what sticks out are the midnight blue cloths tied about his palms. Another, larger strip covers his eyes, stark against his pale skin and shorn salt-and-pepper hair.

"King Bartholomew and Queen Iris," he drawls, "a pleasure to see you, as always."

Despite the stress lines in their young faces, the monarchs fail to suppress little smiles. The Oracle is known for his crass humor.

"Oracle," Barry says, "we need your help."

"Really? And here I thought this was a social call, Your Majesty."

"There is a faceless spirit tormenting our people," Iris snaps, "we must know who they are so that we can lay them to rest."

"No necromancer can identify them," Barry adds, "Even our Seer is blinded." In the corner of his eye, he sees Cisco look away in shame. A problem for later.

"So once again, a blind man must look where inner eyes can't go," the Oracle replies.

"You see what is, what was, and what could be," Iris says. "All we ask is a name."

"I can get you a name," the Oracle says, "provided I get something in return."

The woman beside him smirks. The dragon rolls his eyes.

"What's your price?" Barry asks.

The Oracle gives his own smirk, one almost identical to the woman's. "Come closer. I'll whisper it in your royal ears."

"Don't you dare," Cisco murmurs.

"I heard that, Seer."

Cisco glares at him. " _Good_."

"Now, now, no need to be so cold," the Oracle says, "What harm can I do in the heart of the heroes' kingdom?"

His companions send each other devious looks.

Iris and Barry glance at each other. Then, as one, they rise and descend the few steps separating them from their guest. Cautiously, they turn their ears to the Oracle's lips.

Whatever is whispered has the king turning red and the queen smothering an astonished grin.

"You are truly the most unorthodox Oracle in the entire line of ascension, Leonard Snart," Iris says.

Snart tilts his head towards her voice. "Your Majesty is  _most_ kind."

The dragon snorts.

"Thanks for your input, Mikel."

Mikel rolls his shoulders, wings twitching.

"Well, Your Majesties?" Snart continues, "Do we have a deal?"

Iris settles her magenta skirts around her. "How about a name  _and_ a viable solution to stop this spirit. In exchange, what you ask for, and..." she leans in and whispers something in return.

The king utters a scandalized, " _Iris_!" while Snart grins.

"I would be  _honored_ , Your Majesty," the Oracle purrs, "to be of such―prolific use. Provided the king accept as well."

He seems to look right at Barry. Barry, who is looking distinctly undignified by hiding his scarlet face in his hands.

There is, however, a squeaking "Deal" from between his fingers.

"Then let's catch a spirit," Snart says. "Do you have the necessary items, or am I doin' this blind?"

Barry huffs. He can't stop another smile despite himself.

Iris can't either. "We have them." She waves over a footman carrying a gilded octagonal box. "One from a victim of the first village, another from the most recent attack."

"Efficient as ever, Queen Iris," Snart says. He reaches behind his head, only to be intercepted by the woman.

"Let me do that, Lenny," the golden soldier murmurs, "You're all thumbs."

A fond smile briefly crosses Snart's face. "Thanks, sis."

Liselle Snart unties the cloth and gently takes it away, revealing lovely eyelashes, expressive eyebrows, and closed lids.

"Hope you're not still squeamish," he says.

"We'll be fine," Barry says.

The Oracle opens his eyes. Rather, his eyelids, for there are no eyes in his sockets. Instead, his sister and Mikel untie the cloths around his hands to reveal a set of glowing blue eyes blinking in his palms.

Barry swallows thickly, but thankfully neither he nor Cisco sway on his feet or, more embarrassingly, faint straightaway.

The footman, keeping his gaze averted, opens the box. One earth brown eye and one honeysuckle brown eye sit in silk. Without hesitation, Mikel picks both up and approaches Snart.

The eyes slide in with a wide pop. They roll around until they find equilibrium. Snart blinks a few times before deeming them satisfactory. Yet he still looks around the throne room and does not seem to see.

He holds his hands in front of him. Where the eyes in his head narrow, his real ones open wide, blue light spreading to the veins in his fingers.

"Ah," the Oracle murmurs, "he came at night." He slowly lowers his right hand to waist height. "Something...something in the air. Fast enough to be a spirit, but―that is not what he is."

The court holds its breath.

Snart tilts his head. "No...no, he only looks like a ghost because he's too quick. But his first attack was in the wake of a storm." He stares at the thrones between Iris and Barry. "He is made of storms. Lightning follows him."

Iris clutches Barry's hand.

"A lightning-born," Barry whispers.

"That's not it either," Snart says, "no, there's something else...oh.  _Oh_."

His new eyes snap to Barry, though they retain that distant gleam.

"Lightning-borns have flesh parents. This creature is something new entirely. A scion of a soul destroyed by grief and anger. But the lightning still follows him, and so this soul was struck by a sky mother."

His left hand hovers over Barry's chest.

"An armor of silver and blue. A blade staining red. When hope is lost, so does this creature scream to life. He has already been born, yet no wounded heart yet holds him. A shattered piece of what shouldn't be."

"What shouldn't be?" Iris murmurs.

"A time remnant," Cisco says.

"To kill him, he must never grow," Snart says, "So long as the flower flourishes, the blade will not fall. Savitar will never breathe."

His eye sockets glow and crackle. Black holes return.

"Savitar," Iris says, "I've never heard of a man named Savitar, much less of a birth like that."

"I got some possible decoded messages for yah," Snart says, allowing Liselle and Mikel to recover him, "but you're not gonna like 'em."

"The point is we have a name and a possible solution," Iris says.

Barry turns to the crowd. "And we will use this information to put an end to this horror!"

The court cheers.

"Yeah," Snart mutters, "you're  _really_ not gonna like 'em."

"But first," Iris says, "the Oracle deserves his reward."

"...well. If Her Majesty insists."

 

King, Queen, and Oracle collapse in a tangled heap. The sun has long since set, the moon illuminating their glistening sweat.

"How do you keep doing that?" Barry pants.

"I can look through time and see what gets you goin'," Len says.

"That sounds completely unethical," Iris replies, "but as queen, I can pardon you for it.  _All_ of it."

Barry sighs. "Still not fair. We're still figuring it out."

"If that's an invitation, I accept," Len says.

Barry looks at Iris.

Iris wraps around Len and kisses his covered palm. "I'm not gonna say no. Especially when you do the―"

"You're right!" Barry says, "Great idea. The invitation, I mean." He plasters himself to Len's front. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you came around more often."

Len smirks. "I can see a bright future here."

Their Majesties groan.

 

"So. We should talk about Savitar."

"Yes. Go ahead."

 

"...oh,  _fuck_."

 


End file.
